


Some Assembly Required

by messofthejess



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, IKEA Furniture, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messofthejess/pseuds/messofthejess
Summary: Stein's a genius. He shouldn't be baffled by DIY Swedish furniture.





	

            Her first mistake was leaving him alone while she went on a spa day with Azusa and Nygus. Her second mistake was leaving him alone and expecting him to receive packages on her behalf.

            Marie had gone on something of a shopping spree when the new IKEA catalog had arrived in the mail. What little furniture Stein had in Patchwork Lab when she moved in was either decrepit, stained in nicotine, or a combination of both; either way, it was in desperate need of replacement. Especially that rolling chair he was so fond of—the thing squeaked like twenty mice were getting run over every time he moved. So last Tuesday she’d lounged on the squashy purple couch she’d dragged in from the thrift shop, Stein spooning her and pretending to not look over her shoulder and be fascinated by the intricacies of Swedish interior design, and circled all the things that appealed to her with a pen. They needed a kitchen table that Stein hadn’t dissected on (for sanitary reasons—her fiancé did clean work, but there were still old blood specks she couldn’t scrub out), and matching chairs. One of those three-tiered hanging plant baskets. A pair of new lampshades for the bedroom, and a new duvet cover or three. A new reading armchair (they may have gotten a little _too_ frisky a couple weeks ago and snapped the arm off one side in their eagerness). And of course, a new rolling chair.

            A week and a surprisingly sensible credit card bill later, the furniture arrived. Marie didn’t think anything of it when she set up the spa date the same day everything would show up. Stein had been in good spirits, relatively stable since the mess with the Kishin had cleared up, and it wasn’t like he was helpless on his own. But it wasn’t until the manicurist was putting the finishing touches on her French tips that she jolted.

            Oh, Death. She’d left him alone in a house with things that needed _assembly._ What the hell kind of Franken-furniture was he going to make up with all the parts? What was she going to come home to?

            She tottered up to the front door in disposable flip-flops and hip-checked the doorbell, her nails still not completely dry. When she heard no response, no signature clomping of his heavy shoes, her wavelength spiked with worry. He hadn’t hurt himself, had he? She gingerly grasped the doorknob with her fingertips and twisted, steeling herself for whatever she might find.

            What she was _not_ expecting to find was her fiancé in the middle of a wasteland of cardboard and plastic wrap, staring at what looked like the plastic seat of a chair with coasters stabbed through it.

            “Uh…hey, sweetie,” Marie smiled, shrugging her purse off her shoulder. “W-what have we got here?”

            “An abomination.”

            “Huh?”

            “There are no directions.”

            Marie spied the big white booklet lying among the wreckage and leaned down to pick it up. To hell with her nails if they chipped—she could get them touched up. “What about this?”

            “That’s a comic book, Marie. It just has pictures. No words.”

            She flipped open the cover and saw the familiar doodles of a guy pointing out tools and calling the IKEA store after having a thought bubble with a question mark pop up. “They make them with no words so they can ship them worldwide, Franken. Then they don’t have to translate the words into twenty different languages.”

            “While I appreciate the company’s compassion for the world’s diverse cultures, Marie, that doesn’t change the fact that the directions are ambiguous at best.”

            “Look, it shows where you put the coasters. Here, on the plastic starfish.”

            “What.”

            Marie knelt down across from Stein and picked up the appropriate piece: black with six spokes poking out of it. “See? Plastic starfish.”

            Stein blinked at his fiancée for a long moment, pink blooming on the tips of his ears. “Hmm. I think I like my design better, even if it is an abomination.” With that, he sat down on the seat with coasters so his knees were up around his chin. Like a child on a gym class scooter, he dug his heels in and pulled himself across the carpet to the hardwood of the dining room. “It’s much more efficient this way!” he called from somewhere near the kitchen.

            “You absolute DORK!” Marie yelled after him, unable to stifle her giggles any longer. She didn’t hear the squeak of wheels when Stein came back, and only looked up when he was practically nose-to-nose with her. She let out a squeal of surprise when he kissed her on each cheek, then on the mouth. He scooted closer, pulling her between his knees into an embrace, and she leaned into his touch, grinning.

            “Would you like me to help put the rest of this together?” he asked after a long while of impromptu cuddling. Believe it or not, squatting for any length of time was not comfortable for a man of his stature.

            “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to help put the duvet cover on. You know, help me _make the bed_ ,” Marie countered, running her fingers through his silvery hair with a coy smile. Stein caught the implications of her words immediately, his ears turning even pinker and a smirk twisting up his face. He sprung up immediately and scooped her up in his arms, making her squeal again.

            After two hours of, _ahem_ , making the bed, an hour of putting together kitchen chairs while waiting for the pizza to arrive, and three freshly gouged nails later, Marie was more than happy to be the little spoon on the couch while they watched _Love Actually_ together. The IKEA furniture may have made Patchwork Lab feel a bit more like home, but in truth, the thing that made the lab home lay right behind her, his thumb rubbing gentle, loving circles over her belly.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, IKEA furniture really isn't THAT hard to put together. But geniuses always think things are more complicated than they have to be :P


End file.
